Dancing and Domesticity
by MistBlade8
Summary: A simple matter of House Elf forgetfulness turns into the strangest first day Lily Evans has ever seen. And what's this feeling she's getting around James Potter? Oneshot.


**Hello! It's been a while, hasn't it! It's my birthday today *Whoops* and my friend Alligan wrote me this fic. I have betaed it, so I can confirm that it is freaking awesome! Unfortunately, Alligan has decided that my judgement isn't enough, so please review and favourite, just to I can rub it in her face like the friend I am!**

**Please?**

It was the first day back at school, and there were new sheets and, even better, the beds hadn't been made. Normally the house elves would do it, so whether this was a seventh year thing (having to make your own bed) or just a job that had been overlooked in the flurry of everyone getting back to school, I didn't know. It was one of the mysteries that will only be remembered by an unusual girl with an unusual memory. But I digress.

I like making beds; it's the kind of domestic simplicity that makes me ever so happy. Clean sheets, pillows and the last rays of the sun streaming through the window. Being girls – stereotypical as it is – everything was done with the proper decorum. Excluding pillow fighting (using the school tart's pillows) and other such childish hilarities, which were not very Head Girlish things. But they are excluded, so everything was performed with the proper decorum that young ladies should employ in the seventh year girls dorms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, all very proper, unlike Carly Pine's underwear.

So, like the prim little Enid Blyton school girl my parents imagined I was, I made my way back down the stairs to the common room, leaving behind Camilla and Aida who were still upstairs unpacking at half the speed I had done it. The common room looked beautiful, in all its start of year glory. You could see all the dust particles in the shafts of evening sun streaming in from the high windows. I was simply enjoying the peace, walking over to stand in one such warm sunny spot when,

"Evans," came the whisper. I looked around.

"Um, hello. Is anyone there?"

"Evans – Lily, _please_."

"Who is this? What do you want?"

"Evans, follow me. _Please!_"

What sort of prank was this? There wasn't really much point – no audience, no ghosts. Weird.

"_Evans!"_ Hissed the insistent voice.

"I'm coming," I said, following in the direction of the voice. This was suspicious – and no doubt breaking millions of school rules. Here I was, Lily Evans, Head Girl, going up the stairs to the boys dormitories with a person – or persons – unknown. If this was James Potter playing games this was not going to end well for him! As I came to the stair well, it was not Sirius or James, but Peter Pettigrew; well this was a new tactic.

"Peter, what do you want?" I asked, foot tapping impatiently in a way that I knew would unnerve him.

"Help me! The beds aren't made and none of us but Remus can do it! And Sirius and James won't ask for help and Remus flat out refused to do mine when I asked, so I thought-"

"Fine, I'll help – but this better not be some prank!"

As he lead me up the boy's staircase I heard some strange noises becoming increasingly louder and louder. Thumps, shouts and scuffles that were muffled by the door. THUMP.

The room was in a very strange state. Remus sat on his bed with a book, ignoring the others, and what looked like Peter's bed was untouched from when he'd arrived. James was standing, running his hand through his hair, and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. The room looked, in short, like there had been an explosion at the laundrette.

"Peter, what was it you needed help with?" I asked in a hushed voice, hoping that the others would not notice my presence, hidden as I was in the shadows of the door. Silently Peter walked over to the unmade bed. I made to follow, but as I hurried over my ankle was grabbed.

"Prongs! I don't think there's anything down here," shouted Sirius Black. I think he was trying to make the bed – under it. Somehow… If you asked me why, I couldn't tell you. I blame the Y-chromosome, it makes them a bit doo-lally. Or in some cases, more than a bit.

Another hand reached out to grab at my ankle, but I stamped on it firmly. Any more of this and I'd be starting the year off in a heap on the floor. No thank you!

"OW!"

"Lily?" James questioned, and my eyes were drawn to the shining badge on his rumpled jumper.

"Lily?" Echoed Sirius from under the bed, obviously at a loss to whose ankle he had captive.

"Yes, Sirius. That's Lily," James said slowly.

"It is?"

"_Yes_ Padfoot."

"She has nicer ankles than you Prongs, I should have known. What's she doing up here?"

"_She_ is here to help Peter," I said, again attempting to hurry over to Peter's bed and beginning to regret my decision.

"Evans, why are you helping Peter?"

"He asked," I said simply. If I had seen the look on his face as he lay, stunned, under his own bed, I may have laughed. But I ignored the imaginary Sirius inside my head and carried on to Peter's bed. I showed him how to tuck in the sheets and cover the pillows, all simple enough things for me, and left the other even easier tasks for him to complete. James had been watching me, and Sirius had poked his head out from under the bed. Well that was not cricket; if they wanted help they would have to ask for it, not survive on Peter's ability to know when to ask for help. "Yes?" I asked imperiously. It had the desired effect, leaving both of them looking sufficiently sheepish.

"Erm – Lily?" Peter was in an almighty mess. In the space of 15 seconds the bed resembled Sirius' tangled sheets. I paid little attention to Sirius and James as they puzzled over the workings of the under sheet. Sirius had finally admitted grudging defeat, and had sulkily draped the sheet over his head. He started spinning around, acting like a demented kind of ghoul. Now sufficiently disorientated he turned towards James and said;

"Oh marvellous, charming Evans, would you like to dance?" He didn't wait for an answer. Soon the 'ghoul' and the Quidditch Captain were waltzing around the room. I turned, hearing my name, and nearly burst into laughter at the sight of the 'couple' spinning drunkenly about the dormitory.

"What do you think, Evans? I'm an excellent charmer, don't you agree –" he never finished the sentence. In a matter of seconds, I was dislodged from my place amending Peter's handiwork and knocked onto the bed proper, being crushed under the two boys as they landed on top of me. Sirius had tripped over his dress robes, taking his partner with him. Peter, who had been hovering over me, fell straight on his 'derriere'. After about a second of being crushed to near death, common sense made an appearance and I slipped from under Sirius onto the eiderdowns and pillows piled by the side of the bed.

"Evans?" asked the ghoul.

"Which one do you mean?" I giggled from my sprawled position on the eiderdowns as I wriggled into a more comfortable place, staring at the ceiling as I smoothed out my ruffled hair.

"Eh?"

"Your dance partner over there, or the innocent bystander that you so rudely knocked off the bed?" I struck a pose, still on my back.

"Eh?" he repeated. I rolled my eyes.

"Take of the sheet, Pads," Remus remarked, still reading. He seemed unperturbed by the racket occurring in the dorm around him.

Sirius wrestled the sheet from over his head.

"Prongs! Did you try to sneak a dance with Evans?"

"No, you did!" I piped up from his left. "You do know it's customary to wait for a lady's answer before you start gallivanting about the room with her. I'm not sure, but I think you should do the same with men, even if you are like brothers." It took some time for the penny to drop.

"Well I thought you would be more shapely, after what we've heard from-"

"Lily, are you OK?" James hastily interrupted, laying on top of Peter's still unmade bed.

"Never better, I'm sure, but it's not me you should be worried about."

"Eh?" grunted Sirius, moving his head to poke over the edge in order to get a better look at me.

THWACK! The pillow hit his head with a satisfying thud.

"That was for being so impolite!" THWACK! "That was for being such an idiot!" THWACK! "And that was for what would have been at the end of that sentence." Not bad, I thought, especially considering my position on the floor with limited swinging space to build momentum. I made no move to get off the eiderdowns, it really was comfortable.

"Evans, want to dance?" The head reappeared, more cautiously.

"Of course, good Ghoul." I sprung from my comfortable nest, allowing Sirius to grab me and start galloping around the room; this was really quite fun, and not in the least bit sensible! I was dancing with the most promiscuous Marauder, if rumours were to be believed, in the seventh year boys dormitories and generally behaving like a two year old. "Sirius… Sirius, we're going to trip over if we don't – SIRIUS!"

Sirius went sprawling onto the floor as he once again tripped over the sheet. Naturally I was a bit confused when, instead of following him, my arm was grabbed by a strong, warm hand. As I turned under the arch that the arms made like I'd seen countless dancers do in the muggle world, I caught sight of a gleaming badge. When I completed the spin, I curtseyed jokingly. Rising from my position, my eyes locked with those of James Potter. An odd, warm feeling started in my stomach, giving me courage. "Well at least Dumbledore made sure his Head Boy could dance. Do you need help with that bed?"

"Um…"

I took a leaf out of Sirius' book and didn't bother waiting for an answer. I strolled over to the bed that I knew was James', leaning over the trunk with the initials J.P next to it.

"Shit!" I turned to look at him, startled. "The feast begins in five minutes."

"Shit." We agreed.

* * *

The group earned many a strange look as they hurried down to the common room, Sirius humming the waltz while Lily explained the function of a Washing Machine to a bemused James, as the dust swirled softly in the golden shafts of evening sun.

**Once again - please?**

**Misty xx**


End file.
